Page 9 of Grunt: A Marine Romance

“No worries.” Nicole placed baby Rebecca in Eric’s arms, and Selena melted. A pang clutched her belly as she once again wondered if a family of her own was even a possibility.

Selena took out her phone and looked at the time. “I have to run and get ready.”

“Me, too.” Vika gave Benny a kiss on the cheek, and he patted her bottom.

Nicole took Vika’s bag from her father and smiled at him. “Let’s go.” Selena still would never understand how it didn’t bother Nicole that her stepmother Vika was ten years younger than she was.

Elizabeth joined them and the four women walked down the hallway together. They posed for a few fan pictures for the younger dancers. Selena remembered what it was like to get an autograph from the professionals when she’d been an amateur. Visions of her twelve-year-old self squealing after receiving a kiss on the cheek from champion Dima flooded her head.

“Selena, about time.” Jenny’s voice rang out as Selena walked through the door. That girl couldn’t whisper if her life depended on it.

Jenny stood before a single-mirrored makeup table. She helped Selena get into her costume. After giving up on Selena’s stubborn dress straps, Jenny settled into gluing crystals above Selena’s eyebrow so quickly that it looked like someone had hit fast-forward on the scene in front of the mirror.

Nicole led Vika over to a corner and unfastened her bun. Elizabeth’s sisters helped her get ready. At least ten other dancers were in various stages of undress. Another dancer bound her long black hair into a knotted ponytail on the top of her head, like an Arabian princess. One dancer rubbed baby oil on her body; another was being sewn into her costume.

The door flew open, startling everyone. The rancid smell of yesterday’s Stroganoff wafted into the room.

“Lovely, the Russian Mafia is here,” Jenny muttered. She threw a look of pity Vika’s way then buried her head in Selena’s bag, looking for God knows what. Nicole excused herself to go check on her baby.

Vika’s grandmother Irina and their six-person entourage took over the dressing room. Irina and two pre-pubescent Ukrainian dancers started spreading Vika’s costumes in the cramped right corner of the room. Vika stripped down to nothing but her dance heels.

“Vika, sidyat!” Irina grabbed a still-naked Vika by her hair and shoved her into a chair to finish her makeup as her ladies-in-waiting fussed with her nails and her jewelry.

Compared to Vika’s life, Selena’s problems seemed silly. Vika had been forced to marry Benny to get a green card. Dima had married his first partner for a green card and had been trying for years to get his cousin over here legally. He had set her up with Benny. Benny adored her but Selena doubted that Vika truly loved him in any way other than a father figure. Vika’s family bullied her into competing, teaching long hours at their studio, showcases, and keeping up appearances. Dima was constantly drilling into Selena’s brain that this lifestyle was a privilege and Americans like Selena didn’t know how to sacrifice. To Vika, happiness was a blend of success and wealth. She had told Selena as much.

But Vika’s eyes told another story.

Jenny glued on Selena’s mink fur eyelashes with rhinestones on the tips and rubbed on a final coat of Pro-Tan and Sun Shimmer to make her skin gleam. Then she started on her makeup: eyes brushed with rainbow-iridescent shades of a peacock, cheeks stained blood-red, and lips painted the color of cotton candy.

Yakking with the judges had cost her precious preening time. Selena shoved her hair into her sequined headband. Through the mirror, she stole a glance at Vika in her smoking hot gown. It was completely nude underneath with a shear slip and had hand-sewn rhinestones that adorned her body, with pink Swarovski crystals covering her ta-tas and, as Benny would say, her “Map of Tasmania.” From a distance, she would appear to be dancing naked.

“Okay, Selena. You look beautiful as usual,” Jenny said. “You’re going to do great.” Jenny gave her a hug.

“Thanks, Jen.”

“Will the couples in Heat One of the Closed Professional United States Latin Championship please make their way to the on-deck area?” a voice with a British accent beckoned over the intercom.

Selena fluffed out her extensions and ran out into the hallway.

“Selena!” Dima yelled from inside the ballroom.

Selena raced into the ballroom and stood by his side. He kissed her on the forehead. She took a second to straighten the number on his back. Facing the audience, her gaze swept the room randomly—until it zeroed-in on Bret, standing by the bar with a beer in his hand. He wore a sleek black suit and a conservative blue tie that matched his eye color. Looking like a shiny boot in the sea of rhinestone dresses and flashy suits surrounding him, he didn’t seem to care how out of place he was in her world of glitter and glam, a world that used to be part of his daily life.

He stared off somewhere to the left, and her eyes blurred on him. Why was he suddenly everywhere? And why was she always the last to know?

Many years ago, she and Bret had won this competition together, her first big win. So far, no other night had been able to rival the elation she experienced on that one. The more time passed, the more she reminisced about that night and wondered if that had been the happiest night of her life. She had achieved her goal with the man she loved and they had a bright future planned together. More importantly, she had felt safe and secure, a feeling she was grasping to get back.

A sharp tug at her hand and an even sharper glare from Dima brought Selena back to the present. Dima was her partner now, her life, even if they weren’t romantically involved. She needed to push Bret out of her mind so she could win. After all, she had sacrificed her soul and happiness to become a champion.

She took one last look Bret’s way, hoping maybe he had vanished. But their eyes met. Bret winked at her. Selena grinned back. She knew she had to dance her heart out tonight to show Bret how far she’d come as a dancer. Maybe then he’d realize she had made the right decision, many years ago, to leave him and her heart behind.